


A Woman's Affairs

by aph3lion



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Baby Pavetta has a small cameo at the end, Calanthe/Roegner is implied but not shown in any way, Childbirth, Eist has heart eyes for Calanthe from the moment they meet, F/M, I can't stand Roegner :)), Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aph3lion/pseuds/aph3lion
Summary: "It looks as if our lamented king was an oaf as far as a woman's affairs are concerned, and couldn't be trusted to count to nine." - Queen Calanthe (A Question of Price in The Last Wish, p. 118)
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon & Eist Tuirsach
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> Two things of note before this thing starts:  
> 1\. If you had a drink for every trope in this story you probably would not be able to remember your own name after it so proceed with caution  
> 2\. English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes in the tenses or punctuation department sorry in advance
> 
> Also I took some liberties with the return of a certain King from a certain hunting trip at the end of this story because I didn't want him around at the end  
> That's all, enjoy :)

Queen Calanthe is ill and, to her great dismay, misses a day of court. King Roegner, although a skilled politician, is also on edge because his wife the did not close an eye this night and by proximity Roegner also did not.  
The issue of a monster in Cintra's streets is brought before him by a representative of the Guild, a horse dealer. He took the brunt of it when 3 horses were killed in one night. Some fear that the guards are no match for a monster maybe living in the dark corners of the city. They wish for the crown's support of hiring a Witcher in this matter. Roegner is not in favour of a Witcher, completely trusting in the city's own executive, and says he will not support this matter financially or otherwise. When Calanthe hears of this the same evening, she is furious. She would have made a different decision. The illness that prevented her from keeping down anything, that prevented her from having a good nights sleep and prevented her from holding court that day already strained her nerves. Roegner stands by his decision though and after they go to bed Calanthe pretends not to notice that her husband fakes falling asleep to avoid further discussion.

  
After lying awake until midnight Calanthe finally falls asleep more from exhaustion than real tiredness. She dreams of a horse stable. Of course she does. In her dream she somehow knows that in the otherwise empty stable a horse waits for her in the last box to the right. Even in her dream she sees her own breath from the cold, shivering. When her dream self finally reaches her destination all she finds is a disgusting heap of flesh that might have been a horse some time before. Steam rises from the corpse, the animal was not long dead. Calanthe tries to run in the opposite direction but damn dream logic, she feels like running in a swamp. The feeling of being trapped creeps up and the last thing she sees before waking up in a cold sweat are two yellow, cat like eyes staring at her out of the darkness. The nightgown clings to her trembling body when she awakes. Roegner lies next to her, unaware and sound asleep. She gives herself two moments to calm down. The cool autumn air, that even the embers, still glowing in the bed chamber's fireplace couldn't chase away, keeps Calanthe awake for the rest of the night. The next day she would talk to Roegner about the monster problem.

  
Of course the king of Cintra was not happy with his Queen's decision to overrule him. His judgement over the horse killing leads to the argument they always had in those situations. Calanthe would not give away an ounce of her powers and responsibilities to Roegner. He was not satisfied by his role in court because he was seen as an accessory to his wife, not the other way around. He knows of the customs of course, he also knows that his marriage to Calanthe two years ago had been a political move, not a union of love and tells her as much. Calanthe's irritated mood on top of her already sometimes headstrong personality makes this fight a particularly nasty one and they say things to each other they should probably not have said.  
In the end Calanthe decides that the horse dealer and his wife would be invited for dinner and that the four of them would discuss the matter a second time. They sleep facing away from each other that night.

  
Calanthe has the same dream over and over, always waking up when her eyes met the yellow ones in the darkness. By the time the dinner comes a week later she has dark rings under her eyes but diplomatically averts every question about them.  
Late autumn has the whole of Cintra strong in it's grip and the first minutes of the dinner the Queen, King and their guests spend in front of the fireplace so that the horse merchant and his wife could warm up.  
The conversation is a little bit awkward at first. Although Roegner, and Calanthe especially could be called down to earth and, in comparison to other rulers, rather close to their people, there are still two worlds that clash that evening. The castellan had introduced the guests of course, Master Tonnet Lisad and his wife, Mistress Clara but apart from names and titles the two parties know almost nothing about each other. Dinner is served and over a deliciously roasted ham and good vegetables Calanthe learns about the current market of horse trading and that because of the killings prices for some breeds skyrocketed while Tonnet had to sell others under value.  
Clara and Roegner who coincidentally both fare from Ebbing discuss their old home, the nostalgia bringing a relaxed mood over the dinner.  
Calanthe had decided that her husband would be the one to tell the merchant that they had changed their mind about hiring a Witcher. She had swallowed her pride and reluctantly agreed that it would strengthen the king's position with the people. But only because she knew it was the best for the current situation and that she, other than her husband, had a strong supporting in the general populace.  
When the topic finally comes to the reason why the Lisad family had been invited for dinner the Queen and King share a knowing look and Calanthe asks Clara whether she would like to see the royal greenhouse.  
Clara's eyes light up and the two women link arms and graciously walk out of the private dining room.

  
Although the castle was not small by any means the way to the greenhouse is not a long one but Calanthe still has time observe the older woman by her side. Mistress Clara Lisad is not old, but the laugh lines next to her eyes betray her real age. Her dark blonde hair is braided carefully and along with her dress, an exquisite gown with intricate patterns, tell of her status. Calanthe also notices that Clara does not have the working hands of her husband but still does not look like she does nothing all day. "Tell me, are you responsible for the bookkeeping in your husband's business or are you just the one spending the money?" Calanthe asks nonchalantly. Although she was the Queen and the other woman the wife of a merchant Calanthe somehow trusts her and falls into an informal register."No, I don't work with my husband at all. When we met I was 17 years old and I had already worked for some years. I am a midwife. I think most of the merchants district's children were delivered with my help," she tells Calanthe not without pride in her voice. The Queen thinks back to her 15th year, when she paid the lives of 3000 men to be called Lioness of Cintra, and her 17th when she married Roegner.  
The women walk the rest of the way chatting about Clara's profession, a field in which Calanthe had rather limited knowledge. The greenhouse was more room than a house, nestled in the far corner of the castle. Hot springs on which the castle was built warm the room to a pleasant temperature and ornate glass panels on three walls let the sun in. Well, not in this moment, it was already dark out. This gives the greenhouse a mysterious atmosphere, the room only illuminated by some candles strategically placed in it. Clara feels like she is in paradise. The room is neatly divided into four quadrants, each of which has it's own theme. One was for the purely decorative flowers, the next for exotic spices, some of which both women could not name from the top of their heads. The third one was more a shallow pond or fountain than a normal flower bed and housed some beautiful water lilies and other underwater plants. The last one was especially interesting for Clara, for it is the one with medicinal plants and herbs. She looks at each species that she recognized and excitedly comments on this and that, while Calanthe sits down on a stone bench nearby. "Your Majesty, this is beautiful! I didn't even know you could have some of these species indoors," Clara remarks still in awe of the sheer number of plants in this room.  
"My father built the greenhouse for my mother, who was interested in the great powers some of those species. After he died and my mother left this has become a place for me to remember them," Calanthe answers, unsure why she would tell this private fact about her life to someone she barely knows. Clara looks up from an exceptionally rare specimen, "I remember when King Dagorad died. The responsibilities of the kingdom and it's wars suddenly on your shoulders..." She does not continue, out of fear that she had crossed a line she should not have.  
Calanthe does not answer and instead focuses on a strange feeling that suddenly overcomes her. She shivers, although the room is warm enough. "You have a magnificent garden your Majesty, thank you for sharing it with me," Clara says and walks over to the bench where her young Queen sits, staring at a point on the opposite wall. "My pleasure. I think we gave the King and your husband enough time to talk about the problem with the horses." Calanthe answers absently while rising from her place on the bench. Horses. Calanthe blinks and suddenly remembers all the gory details from her reoccurring dream. The devilish details were something she forgot each night seconds after waking up but now they are in her minds eye with full force. This, the warm, humid air and standing up too fast leads to Queen Calanthe unceremoniously vomiting on the nearest flower bed. Clara, standing right next to her instinctively steadies the Queen and helps her sit down again. She kneels in front of her and sees that Calanthe is trembling like a leaf. "Are you feeling better now?", she asks in a soothing tone. Calanthe, who was no stranger to vomiting, something that happened to the best knights before a battle, nods and looks the other woman in the eye, not replying. Clara finds her Queen to be pale and walks over to a plant known for it's capacity to calm an upset stomach. She collects the best looking leafs and puts them in Calanthe's trembling hand. In this moment the Queen looks younger than her 19 years. "Chew those your Majesty, you will feel better in no time."  
"Stupid stomach bug, stupid nightmares, stupid shivering," Calanthe curses under her breath. Unsure whether she should call one of the guards placed outside the door or not, she just sits there, waiting for the wave of nausea to be over. "Do you often get sick after eating dinner, your Majesty?" Clara enquires cautiously.  
"If it were after dinner I would be happy. The few times I got sick in the last two weeks were before breakfast. This was the cause why I missed court the day your husband came in," Calanthe answers truthfully, not caring about class differences or royal customs for the moment, sharing the story.  
Clara could feel a laugh creeping up her throat and can not help herself. "Excuse my laughing your Majesty, but your ladies-in-waiting have done a terrible job educating you in some topics."  
The Lioness of Cintra furrows her brows, thinking of her ladies-in-waiting and the thorough education she received. Although the sword fighting lessons had occupied most of her mind at this time. "Careful, Mistress Clara. Tell me what the problem is," Calanthe demands in her harsh regal voice, the warmth completely gone from it.  
"Have you bled in the last month, your Majesty?" Clara asks instead and the pieces click so loudly in Calanthe's head that she is afraid the other woman had heard it.  
No, she hadn't bled in the last month.  
"Congratulations, you're going to have a summer child," Clara says, with a beaming smile on her face, correctly taking the silence as a no.  
Calanthe on the other hand could not smile. She puts a hand on her stomach and finds the tiniest bump under the soft fabric of her dress. Her eyes meet Clara's. "I am... I am going to be a...", Calanthe stutters, at a loss for words for the first time in her life, "What do I have to do now?".  
"Keep your calm, my Queen. You don't have to do much for the next seven months. Pregnancy sounds scarier than it is, believe me. I've been through this two times myself."  
But for Calanthe the question means so much more. An heir to the throne of Cintra was growing under her heart. Her child. So new and unfinished but still something she already loves with all she has. The reason why she was not going to resolve conflict with the sword in the foreseeable future. She probably would not even fit in her armour in some months time. After this child would be born she would have fulfilled her royal duty of producing an heir. The only thing a Queen was needed for.  
The thought that the Kingdom of Cintra might be very content with her rule does not cross her mind.  
"I wont tell anybody, my Queen. And you shouldn't too. At least until the winter solstice. Come see me around that time if you want," Clara advises the younger woman.  
The fact that there would be an heir to Cintra soon could be of interest to opposing factions and not every pregnancy had a good ending, Clara knew.  
"Should we go now?" she asks the still pale Calanthe, who in turn nods and rises, slower this time. They lock arms again and leave the greenhouse for the dining hall.

After the Queen and King decide that the monster problem would be taken care of by a Witcher, Calanthe's nightmares stop just as sudden as they had begun.


	2. Winter

It is the night of the winter solstice. Calanthe had told only one other person that she was with child. In this moment she had felt young again, sharing the secret with her best and only friend. Afra of Sodden and her had spent most of their childhoods together and Calanthe could never keep something from her. Not one day passed until Calanthe caught her busy friend in a calm minute, almost pulling her by the arm into an empty room in the castle. The news had come over her lips as soon as the door closed. She would never forget the long hug and the bright smile they shared.

But now the words would not come. Calanthe lies, her head propped up against the headpiece of the oaken bed. Next to her lies her husband, who was almost asleep. The moon lets her see and she regards him. He is handsome and although their marriage is deemed loveless by some detractors, Calanthe knows that she could do worse. He is an intelligent man, just ruler and gentle lover but there were still some reservations in her heart she can not explain. Maybe that was the reason the words would not come. The Lioness of Cintra, seasoned warrior and Queen of the beautiful lands surrounding them takes a deep breath. "Roegner," she begins. He grunts and opens his eyes again. When he sees her face he sits up immediately. He knows that the conversations they have at this time of day seldom bring good news. This time he is mistaken. "I'm pregnant, " Calanthe speaks the words and is infinitely relieved when she looks up and sees her husband's face. He looks at her in absolute awe and does not answer at first. Instead his hand finds hers underneath the blanket and he squeezes it gently. She takes the hand and puts it on her stomach. The barely noticeable bump she felt that day in the greenhouse had grown already, but not so much that one could see it through her dresses and gowns. But one could feel it under the thin fabric of her nightgown. "Calanthe... that's wonderful!". Roegner does not know much about women's affairs but he knows that the bump under his hand undeniably confirms her words. Calanthe takes a breath to give him orders about what responsibilities he would have once her time was close but he is quicker. "What do you need, Calanthe?" he asks her, the tone in his voice indicating that he knows exactly what he is asking of her right now. Calanthe's biggest flaw had always been that she could not ask for help. From a young age she wanted to manage everything by herself. She had already known then that the place on the top is a lonely one. That had meant sleepless nights reading books on tactics and diplomacy, countless hours practising the same sword move over and over again and gaining an armour that some confused with arrogance. She never asked for help when she got hurt or when everything was becoming overwhelming. When she had bled for the first time, shortly after her coronation, she did not go to her ladies-in-waiting but to the castle's library to find out what had happened to her. It was expected from a Queen to never falter. And so she never did. The question hits her like a horse's kick and she does not now how to respond to it. Calanthe's and Roegner's relationship was never a cold one, they did not dislike each other but sometimes she had the feeling that he simply did not understand her. With this question he hit her weak spot, surprising her, although not in a bad way. She answers him what she needs now and what she will need in half a year from now and he listens attentively.

The next day she visits the horse merchant Tonnet and his wife. "M... my Queen," the businessman greets Calanthe at his door, bowing deeply. "Good morning, Tonnet Lisad," she greets him back, her breath condensing in the crisp winter air. He invites her in, the one discreetly clad guard she brought with her places himself at the door. Even if she could handle herself in the face of danger one guard had come with her, more a reason of protocol than need. "What a surprise, your Majesty. Follow me to the study, we can talk there," Tonnet says, half out of the room already. Calanthe clears her throat and the merchant looks back at her. She narrows her eyes at him and Calanthe considers whether his impolite manners could be excused or not. She decides on the middle ground, a merchant whose Queen is suddenly standing in his shop could forget his good upbringing. But she did not get her reputation from anywhere. "Let me get directly to the point. I do not need your services today, that is what the more than capable royal stables are for. I am here for your wife. And if word gets out that I am seeking the assistance of a midwife, I will be the one to forget my good manners. Do you understand me?" Tonnet, whose eyes grow wider with every sentence she speaks, looks her up and down. A royal heir was not yet public knowledge. The tasteful blue velvet cape she wears over her practical riding outfit obstructs the view of her midsection. She smiles coolly and he swallows and nods, "Y..yes my Queen. Let's go to her room then. Please, follow me your majesty." "Very well".

His wife's study could barely be called that. Crammed in a room that had clearly been planned as a storage sits Clara, reading in a leather bound book. "You have a visitor," Tonnet announces in a still somewhat shaky voice. Clara looks up from her reading and smiles warmly as she sees Calanthe standing next to her husband. She rises and bows. "My Queen. Welcome. It is far from tidy in here, please forgive me." That was a greeting Calanthe likes to hear, even if there was nothing to forgive, since the tiny room in front of her is crammed but not disorderly. Everything seems to have it's place in the shelves that reach to the ceiling. Tonnet let's her in the chamber and stands in the door, not sure what to do. "It's good to see you again. Tonnet, you may leave us," the younger woman replies, mirroring the smile. This was one of her rarely seen real smiles, Clara suspected. Clara quickly clears a chair of some loose pages of hand drawn healing herbs and invites the young Queen to sit. Clara herself only sits down after her Queen and waits for her to speak first. "Lady Clara, you were obviously right last time. In the greenhouse," Calanthe begins, not wasting their time with pleasantries, "you told me to come to you after the winter solstice. So, here I am. What comes next?". "Well, first of all, thank you for trusting me with this your majesty. It might have been chance that brought us together, it might have been destiny. So here we are. How are you feeling? Do you still get sick in the morning?" Calanthe thought for some moments before answering. She hates being this vulnerable in front of someone she barely knows. Breathe in, breathe out. Just like before letting go of the arrow that would surely find its mark. "I am feeling fine. The little one does not make me much trouble. The vomiting is gone. But still, there is this feeling somewhere in the back of my head. That something is not right or that something bad will happen." Clara regards the young woman in front of her. Clara herself had been 19 too when she had her first child. It's not terribly young. But the responsibility had been another. While Clara knew back then that she had her child to look after, the Queen would have her child and the whole kingdom of Cintra to look after. They were dealing with nuanced fears of the Queen here. "I see what you want to tell me your majesty. But know that nothing will happen to you or your child. You just have to sit it out. This too shall pass." Calanthe lets out a breath she did not notice she was holding. In. Out. "So you want to tell me I have to wait. It's not my strong suit, let me tell you that." She pauses, looking her opposite in the eyes and then on the floor. Clara waits for the other woman to speak again, not interrupting the silent moment between the two. "Will you be there when it happens?" Calanthe asks quietly. Clara laughs just as she laughed when she discovered Calanthe's pregnancy. When the Queen's eyes meet hers again she is glad that looks can't kill. The dagger securely fastened on Calanthe's thigh could though so she raises her hands in an excusing motion, "I am sorry your Highness, I did not mean to laugh. Your concerns are valid but there is no need to be afraid. I will be with you until your child is safely in your arms." The Queen's face softens a little bit before she answers, "You really need to control your urge to laugh, Mistress Clara or someday a lesser man will take offence." "You need the humor in my profession. I don't believe that trust is forged out of rigour."

While Clara assures Queen Calanthe that she would be there when it was time, that Calanthe would not be mistaken when the moment was there and that she was to send a servant and Clara would be with her, regardless of the time, it begins to snow and Cintra is covered under a layer of white.


	3. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one where we finally meet Eist!

The spring brings not only blooming flowers and heightened mood but the King's desire to hunt. Before one of those hunting trips Roegner takes Calanthe aside and tells her that he has the perfect idea for a name. Calanthe furrows her brow and lays out a witty response when her husband proposes the name Cassian. Roegner had really put some thought into this, keeping with the c naming convention of House Raven and also choosing a name fit for a ruler. She is satisfied and lets him know as much. "A good name, but what if it is a girl?"

"We could call her Cassian, too," replies Roegner with a wink. Calanthe is surprised at that rare glance at her husband's more humorous side, him usually being the brooding, some might even say boring type. "Take care. And don't clear the forest of all of it's game. I will be there again with you in no time."

"You take care too."

  
Calanthe knows that she has the castle for herself now. But only for a day. Tomorrow the envoy from Skellige would arrive, a meeting she does not look forward too. She enjoys the company of the Skelligens, a rowdy but loveable bunch but hard to bear when she could not drink with them. Her husband had been smart, he excused himself to an extended hunting trip that would last at least a week, if not more.   
He could have taken the wild islanders with him, Calanthe thinks as she sees her husband and the hunting party leave through the city gates. 

After a quiet day that reminds Calanthe of the time before she had a husband and could do whatever she saw fit, her royal obligations call.  
The castellan advises her to greet her guests of honour in the great hall, so she does. A group of men dressed in the island's traditional colourful gowns enter through the main entrance, chatting loudly. Following them is a simply clad middle aged man, his grey hair reaching his shoulders.   
They silence in the view of the Queen and one of them parts from the rest. The men kneel in front of their noble opposite and the singled out man does the same, although a moment later than his peers. It's so silent that one could hear a pin drop. "Welcome to Cintra, my friends. Please rise." Calanthe's voice cuts through the silence. The young man nearest to her rises first. He is some years older than Calanthe, though closer in age to her than her husband. His tall figure one of a man that spent most of his time on ships, tasting freedom and saltwater early in life. The dark blue eyes meeting hers matching the sea he must love so dearly. A stubble decorates his good looking face, his dark messy hair framing it. He introduces himself, his voice pleasant and steady. "I am Jarl Eist Tuirseach, your Highness. My brother is Bran, King of the Skellige Islands. He sent me to renew some contracts your father and mine made long before we both were born." After that one by one the others rise and Eist introduces them too. The others are his advisors while the gray haired companion is announced to be Mousesack, druid and friend of the Skelligen crown. After Calanthe had also introduced her council the unlike group parts again, the Skelligens moving into their assigned rooms, the Cintrans completing their usual court dealings.   
The evening proves to be more interesting. The dinner with her guests is a nice change from Calanthe's day to day business and she is happy for the distraction.   
Eist has got the seat of honour next to her and they share stories of battles won and lost. They have a fast appreciation for each other, Eist making Calanthe laugh more than once this evening.  
Mousesack is also interesting to the Queen, although in a different way. While many lords and kings have court mages, Calanthe, like her ancestors never saw the need for one. He tells her of his role and duties at the Skelligen court, his anecdotes about fending off sea monsters earning him laughter and calls of "Liar!" by the other Skelligens. As the candles lighting the room grow shorter and the group of men get louder, Calanthe grows more and more tired. Satisfied that she had made a friend and learned something about another culture, she excuses herself to bed.

The way to her chambers seem longer than usual, she blames it on the advanced hour and the child growing inside her. When she feels the nausea and hears a loud ringing in her ears it is already too late and Calanthe, to her own dismay, sees stars and faints in one of the many hallways of the dark castle.   
When she awakes the first things she notices are the smell of salt and a gentle sway. She opens her eyes carefully and in the glowing light of a torch recognizes the worried face of Eist Tuirseach. She feels one of his arms in the back of her knees, the other one under her shoulders. Only then she understands that he is carrying her and that the swaying motion comes from his fast walk. "This way, Eist!", the voice of the other man, the one with the torch in his hand, reaches her ear. At least there was no ringing any more. "Don't be afraid, Mousesack will know what must be done," Eist speaks to her after a look down to check if she had awoken or not. She was not afraid in the least, it had not been the first time she had fallen unconscious. The last time it had been when she got slashed in battle and passed out from the blood loss. Internally she was almost annoyed by herself, fainting because of some steep stairs was unlike the Lioness of Cintra.   
Eist continues to talk to her in soothing tones, speaking in the old language of his home, more to calm himself than her. After a short walk they reach the room assigned to the druid. Without knocking Eist and his companion enter. The fireplace is still burning and some candles light the room. Mousesack rises up from the comfortable chair he is sitting in when he sees who had come to his room at this late hour. "Mousesack, we have an emergency," Eist begins but is interrupted by an amused but weak sounding "Hardly" coming from the woman in his arms. "I think you can set the Queen down over here" Mousesack proposes. Eist tightens his grip protectively, but only for a heartbeat and after looking down for confirmation sits his Queen down.  
"What happened?" Mousesack asks, already rummaging about in a small chest containing herbs and tonics. Calanthe opens her mouth to answer but Eist is quicker. "We found her Majesty when we were on our way to our chambers. She had left the great hall only shortly before us. It seems to me that she must have fallen and hit her head". Only in this moment Calanthe fully notices the throbbing pain in her head. She can not remember the fall but the worried look on Eist's face, apart from the headache, confirm that it must have happened.   
"That can happen in the condition she is in. Take this my Queen, it will help the headache," Mousesack says, holding out a vial with a dark liquid in it.

"What do you mean, "in the condition she is in"? She... hardly drank anything and that the whole evening"

Mousesack smiles inwardly and looks over to Calanthe, sitting in the chair by the fire. Before he can answer Calanthe speaks up. "Thank you Jarl Tuirseach for your assistance and you Mousesack for the remedy. I won't forget it. To answer your question, Jarl Tuirseach, the thing that your Druid friend figured out with a passing glance while you did not even notice all evening or when carrying me through half my castle. I am with child."   
Eist blinks and then also smiles at the Queen. He thinks of his nephew, barely old enough to stand, and what joy he brought to the whole family. "Congratulations, your Highness. Those are good news for the Kingdom of Cintra". Calanthe smirks.   
"If your Highness wants she can stay here for the night," Mousesack offers. But Calanthe is quick to dismiss the offer. The Queen leaving the bed chambers of a guest in the morning and with the King absent... No, she was not in the mood for the gossip.  
She thanks the men again and excuses herself to bed for the second time this evening. Not to her surprise, Eist insists that he accompanies her on her way. They say goodnight and as Calanthe lies in bed she finds her heart beating faster than usual.   
This becomes a ritual for the Queen and the Jarl. After the day's work discussing and negotiating contracts old and new, he brings her to her chambers and they say goodnight at her door. On their last night, before the sea hounds would leave for their islands again, Calanthe remembers that she wanted to ask Eist something.   
His back is already facing her, their good-nights shared, when she addresses him. "Jarl Tuirseach... Eist, do you have another moment?" He turns back around, one brow raised. Usually, a proposal like this, at this time of day and in the position they were in, standing in a cold hallway, the soft light of the fireplace bathing the young Queen in warm light, contrasting the cool colour of her dress, could only mean one thing. But despite of their mutual admiration, Eist knows that the Queen would not invite him to her bed chambers now. "Always, my Queen," comes the answer in a more husky voice than he anticipated.

"Just answer me the question. On our first evening, when you... found me, you spoke in the old language of the Isles. It was beautiful. What were you saying then?"

He chuckles. He had known the words as long as he had been alive. A simple rhyme every child on Skellige had heard at least once. When they had to bear the consequences of being reckless. Or when they could not sleep, the waves crashing on the deck above them.  
" 'twas a saying we have on Skellige, taken out of an ancient book. It means that you should not fear, because destiny holds it's hand protectively over you. It is a little awkward to translate, but you get the gist, I think"   
Calanthe blinks and involuntarily lays a hand on her stomach. Those words touched something deep inside her somehow, she could not explain. She could feel her eyes getting wet. "That... that is a delightful saying. Who wrote it?"   
Eist, pretending not to notice the tears that had filled the eyes of the great Lioness, thinks for a moment before he answers. "To be honest with you, I don't have a clue who wrote it. It is so common in our culture we seldom stop and think about who might have said it first. I'm sorry."  
"Don't be. You have done more than you think." With those words Calanthe closes the door and lets Eist stand in the dark hallway, questioning himself what she might have meant by that.   
The next day Calanthe personally sees the delegation off at the castle gates. It had been a long time since such a brief encounter had been so special to her.  
  
Some weeks later a letter arrives from Skellige. Her heart beats as she opens the letter on a sunny late afternoon and reads it, one hand on her abdomen, calming the active child inside her.  
The letter is addressed to her, written in the sharp hand of Eist Tuirseach. In it the Jarl reports of his safe and uneventful journey home and his the search for the origin of the old Skelligen saying. "After our talk in the hallway," he writes, "your question would not let me go. After searching in the dustiest of libraries, reading age old books and asking every scholar I know I have found the origin of the ancient saying. It can be traced back to a Skelligen Queen, that, after a mighty storm, had to convince her superstitious men to go to sea again. I know, convincing Skelligens to go back to sea sounds surreal but back then the people were more faithful to the gods of the sea and a storm, although killing nobody, was a bad omen. But trough her words and voice the Queen managed to convince them. A great piece of history I got to rediscover thanks to you, your Majesty.  
The name, the one that you wanted to know so deeply, is Pavetta of Faroe.   
I wish you good health, Jarl Eist Tuirseach."


	4. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this one a boy goes on a side quest and a baby gets born.

The setting sun is falling through the window when Calanthe finishes the last bit of correspondence for today. Despite of the promises he made in winter Roegner had left most of the royal duties to Calanthe in the last weeks, tiptoeing around her. Just now he was in some forest, probably hunting, relaxed as could be while Calanthe is sitting at her desk, back and hands tense from the all the writing she had done. She signs her name under the last letter, sorting out a pointless border dispute, when she suddenly feels a sting of pain in her lower back, as if a blunt arrow had hit her. She blinks, rising from the desk.  
A rush of fear and excitement overcomes her. This must be it. The royal heir has decided to finally make an appearance. Unsure of what to do now she gathers the loose papers, sorting them and putting them neatly together. She is surprised of herself. In the face of fear she usually tries to do something of use. Helping a trapped comrade on the battlefield for example. But now she feels like the one trapped and unable to escape the situation. Sweat begins to collect on her forehead and Calanthe wipes it away. She is almost happy that her child had waited until the hours of evening, the day had been sultry and unpleasant, the cool evening air a pleasant change.  
Also the castle is only half full, her husband's hunting trip occupying most of it's residents. And that was what she wanted to be right now. Alone.  
When the next contraction comes she has to steady herself on the bedpost. The Lioness of Cintra could almost laugh about herself. The position she was now in was such a stark contrast to how she was perceived that it could only be called humorous.  
But the battlefield and this had one similarity. She had to do this herself.  
Time becomes irrelevant, Calanthe focusing only on herself. When a page boy comes to her chambers to ask where she would like to have her evening meal, she sends him away with a string of expletives. In the back of her mind she is sorry, he was only doing his work and could not have known but in this precarious situation any small disturbance grated on her nerves.  
Calanthe looks up as the twelfth bell rings. For the last hour she tried everything to calm down, but now resorted to pacing in her room, like a lion behind bars. The pain comes in regular intervals, not worsening too much yet. As long as she could walk around everything was fine.  
Just as a contraction has her firm in it's grip there is a knock on her door. Through clenched teeth she manages a "Come in". The same page boy as before stands in the door, one hand fidgeting with his hat, wiping the other on his breeches, looking at the floor. "What do you want?" Calanthe asks impatiently.  
"I just..." the boy stammers, he could not be older than 14, his voice still a little bit awkward, "I wanted to asked if I should send for someone? I have two younger siblings and..." he pauses again, clearly embarrassed by the situation.  
"You better speak fast now or your tongue will be the dogs' breakfast."  
The page boy swallows. "Yes, my Queen. I ask because my mother had someone at her side both times and you are on your own."  
Commendable, Calanthe thinks. It takes courage to ask their Queen something like that. In this moment she decides that the boy was right. He was good for something after all. "Let them give you a horse at the castle gates and ride to the merchants district. You will find a horse merchant named Lisad. Ask for his wife, she will know," she orders, mustering up all the authority she could right now.  
"Yes, my Queen. At once, my Queen," the page replies, bowing and leaving out the door. Out of the corner of her eye Calanthe can see that his hand had left a sweat stain on his breeches and she can not help but laugh as he leaves and shuts the door carefully.  
In the same moment the boy mounts a horse that he received of the annoyed stable master, who was not happy to be woken at such a strange time, Calanthe, after a particularly strong contraction feels an unpleasant, wet sensation between her legs and decides to change into a loosely falling night gown. 

The boy and his horse race the streets of nightly Cintra. He still can not believe what had happened, why it had been him that was brave enough to knock on his Queens door. Hasn't it been him who got frightened at every story of strigas, manticores and ghouls that the other boys told in the servants' rooms?  
But the Queen was no monster, although some feared her like one. Yes, sometimes she even behaved like one, lashing out with words and in some moments with her sword. But she was still human, the page had seen the fear in her eyes when he had entered the room the first time this evening.  
Lost in his philosophical thoughts he almost misses the sign, a wreath with the likeness of a horse in the middle. It is hard to see in the darkness, but the boy is no stranger to the district's streets. He dismounts the horse and pets it on it's strong neck. After tethering it up he dusts off his clothes and knocks firmly on the door. There is light coming from the inside so he patiently waits for someone to open, glad that he would not get chastised again for waking the residents up.  
The door opens and a man stands in front of him.  
The boy smells a faint whiff of smoke and horses coming from inside. "Who are you and what do you want? You already have a horse, that is clear," the merchant greets him, not unkind but still cautious.  
"My name is Haxo Rennin, I am here because her Majesty Queen Calanthe requests the services of your wife. You are Tonnet Lisad, are you not?" he answers, the words carefully laid out on the way here so that he would not stumble.  
"I am and I have to disappoint you. My wife is currently with the fur traders wife. The Queen is apparently not the only one giving birth tonight."  
Haxo had not anticipated that. Now he had to think fast. "Where can I find this fur trader?" he asks. Maybe the other woman had already been delivered of her child and he could take the midwife from there to the castle. Tonnet was chuckling at the eagerness of this young servant to help. "Ride back to the marketplace and then face west. The fur trader is on the left side of the big street, his name is Harlid. Go on then, your task is not yet finished"  
Haxo, already half up his horse, mind racing, replies with a hasty "Thank you Master Lisad!" and is on his way. Tonnet Lisad closes the door, head shaking but with a smile on his face. It had been some time since he saw such a loyalty in a person. 

Haxo's intuition had been right. When he arrives at the fur traders home, the face that opens the door was one of a new father. He greets the fur trader as he had the horse merchant. This time his request is not rejected and after some moments fur trader Harlid comes back to him, a tiny swaddled newborn in his arms and a woman who must be the midwife following. Haxo looks at her. She is exactly how he imagined. Not old but also not young, steady eyes and a smile that could have calmed any mother-to-be. The Queen would be in good hands. Harlid and the midwife, who introduces herself as Clara Lisad, share their goodbyes and final thanks and the page and her are on the way again. Sharing a horse was never a comfortable ordeal but the closeness gives Clara the opportunity to ask some questions. "How long has the Queen been in labor, Haxo?"  
"I can't say for sure, Mistress Clara. She... uh send me away when I wanted to ask where she wanted to dine tonight, so I guess at least four hours plus the time I needed to find you. Probably more, guessing from her especially irritated mood today. But who could blame her," he answers, blushing at the though of the words she hurled at him, curses he had expected from the rowdy Skelligen sailors who were with them at the beginning of spring, but not his Queen.  
"Mhh, and how was she doing when you left?"  
"I can't say that either. She wanted to be alone and let no one see her"  
Clara shakes her head. The proud Lioness wanted no one to see her in this state, like always, and her entourage was more than happy to comply. "Well, she can be happy she has you then"  
Haxo's face gets even redder and he is happy that the light on Cintra's streets hides it. The rest of the way is spent in silence, Haxo concentrating on taking the fastest possible route. 

When they reach the castle, Haxo leads the way to the Queen's chambers. Clara is surprised that the only people they meet on the way are two sentinels, guarding the base of a flight of stairs that must lead up to the royal bedchambers. "Most of the men are on a hunting trip with King Roegner, the wifes and young aristocracy taking the opportunity to visit their own families. Thinking of it, the hunting party was expected to return today. Something must have held them up... Anyway, there are mostly servants and guards here now," explains Haxo, rounding the corner to take another set of stone stairs. They arrive at a dark oaken door, a muffled scream coming from inside. Haxo stiffens, his eyes growing wide. "Can you please prepare a basin of hot water for me and bring it up here. And also some clean linen, two sheets. If you don't want to you can send a female servant instead." Clara orders in hushed tones. "Do you know how celandine looks like?" Haxo nods, not having missed a biology lesson in the past. "Good. Go to her majesty's greenhouse then, before you get the water. Celandine grows there, it's hard to miss, even for the untrained eye. Take a good two handfuls of them and put them in the water..." another muffled scream and a curse interrupts her. "Swiftly, Haxo." He nods and with a jog turns the corner.  
Clara Lisad steadies her breath and straightens her simple dress, fortunately it did not get too dirty at Harlid's house and enters.  
Calanthe is on her knees, her elbows on the bed, head in her hands. She looks up when she hears someone enter. "Good evening, your Majesty," Clara greets the young ruler. Calanthes face, red from exhaustion, relaxes for a moment. "Good that you are here," she manages before moaning into her pillow.  
"It's all right, you can let it out. To my understanding there is barely anyone on this or the level below us. You picked the perfect time to have your child all alone," Clara says, rolling up her sleeves and walking the few steps over to Calanthe.  
"What a reassurance," Calanthe says between gritted teeth.  
The older woman rubs the back of her Queen and quietly counts how much time passes between one contraction and the next. She counts to a hundred before Calanthe tenses again and clenches her fists. "You are doing great your Majesty. Breathe in between the pain, don't hold your breath".  
Calanthe complies and tries to steady her breaths. In. Out. Just like last time she went to see Clara. There is a soft knock on the door and the midwife leaves her side to open it. Calanthe recognizes the page, who now carefully hands a steaming bowl to Clara, a big piece of clean cloth wrapped around it. The page bows, not meeting the eyes of his Queen and leaves. Clara puts the bowl on the vanity, the mirror fogging up from the hot liquid. She dips her hands into the steaming water and dries them on the edge of the cloth. The water gets the faintest shade of pink as the dried blood from her hands is washed off. Calanthe follows the other woman with her eyes. The irony that this was exactly her own ritual after coming home from a battle, sprinkled with the blood of her enemies, is not lost on her. She is hit by another contraction. "Fuck!" she curses before concentrating on her breathing again. Clara walks over to her. "I know it pains, your Highness but it will be over in no time." That was also what the healer had said to Calanthe when sowing a sword stroke she had received in a careless moment in a training match. But the pain she was feeling now was different, deeper and persisting."And how long would that be?" Calanthe asks.  
"Another two hours maybe a little longer," Clara answers truthfully.  
"Ah, yes of course in just two short hours, maybe more, I will be done here. Delightful!" The Queens voice is thick with sarcasm. She manages to sit up straight and stand with Clara's help. The change in positions mitigates the pain a little bit, but not for long. Forehead against bedpost Calanthe curses and sits down on the bed once the contraction passes. Clara is around her, but not unpleasantly close. Calanthe has the breathing space she desperately needs. While Clara stokes the fire for some more light, Calanthe lies down on the bed, her back against the headboard and her knees drawn to her as far as her impressive belly allowed it.  
The contractions are even closer together now, Clara barely reaching 60 when counting inbetween them. Calanthe had resorted to breathing and groaning, not capable to concentrate on anything else than that. After asking for permission, Clara folds Calanthe's nightgown up to her knees to get a better look. Calanthe does not mind the touch of the midwife. She just wants to get this over with. Between two contractions, Clara makes sure that everything is proceeding normally, for childbirth did not discriminate. To her relief everything looks as it should. With the next contraction an unfamiliar urge comes to Calanthe and she looks up at Clara. "Push with the next contraction, your Highness!" Calanthe nods and when the ugly pain in her back comes she bears down. There is almost no break between the pains and she pushes again. "Good, your Highness, don't give up"  
The Lioness is not one to give up. After some pushes, each more painful than the last, the only sounds filling the room Clara's encouragement and Calanthe's cries, Clara holds the newest member of the Cintran royal family in her hands. Calanthe holds out her arms for the newborn, tears flowing freely down her face. Clara hands her the baby and begins to count again in her head. This time from 60 down. If the baby still did not make a sound when she reaches zero she would have to intervene. "Hello little one," Calanthe greets her newborn child, her voice trembling. Only then the baby crumples it's face even more than it already is and let's out a loud cry. Clara could have sworn that with the cry some glasswares on the vanity clink, but she does not think anything of it. "Congratulations Queen Calanthe, you have a girl."  
"Th... thank you Clara," the Queen says in between sobs, holding her babe close to her. Clara let's the mother and child bond in peace, only interrupting when it was time to cut the umbilical cord and to deliver the placenta, wrapping the latter in a spare cloth. She carefully takes the baby from it's mother, and carries it over to the basin to clean it. The princess, who does not agree at all with the bath, only stops crying when placed back in Calanthe's waiting arms.  
Now clear of blood and gunk, Calanthe can see that her daughter had been born with a head of fine blonde hair. With the help of Clara Calanthe changes into a new robe.  
Clean and happy, Queen Calanthe, ruler to all of Cintra and mother to one, sits at the edge of her bed, her newborn daughter, swaddled in a blanket, safely lying in her arms, as the first rays of sunshine fall into the large window on front of her. She smiles down at her daughter and then over her kingdom. "Let me tell you the story of a great storm and a brave Queen, little one..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come this far I want to thank you so much for reading!  
> And sorry that Eist was only in one chapter but you can be sure, Calanthe won't forget him so soon ;)


End file.
